


Almost Home

by nhasablog



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 13:28:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9609401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nhasablog/pseuds/nhasablog
Summary: Steve’s life has changed drastically since the 40s, but that doesn’t mean the 21st century doesn’t have some good things to offer. Like Tony Stark and his skilled fingers, for example.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sorry to disappoint anyone who thought my summary indicated that something smutty is about to go down. It’s really the opposite of that.

Everyday used to start the same way. He’d wake up terrified, heart racing, wondering for a moment where exactly he was. He’d watch the sun rise as he ran and ran and ran through the outskirts of the city, pretending as if he really needed the exercise when in fact he just needed the escape. He’d get breakfast at the little café downtown and watch the people around him go about their days; days that had always looked the same.

For Steve it was nothing like his days used to look.

And now, several months later, it all changed again. He no longer woke up in his little apartment, but he always woke alone and scared. He no longer started his days with a jog, but at the gym, where he punched bag after bag until he got tired of having to constantly replace them. He no longer got breakfast at a café in his lonesomeness, because the kitchen in the Avenger Tower was always stacked with whatever you would even imagine having, and he almost never ate alone. It was different, but it was a different he liked better, in a way. It wasn’t the 1940s, but it wasn’t hell either.

Maybe one day it could be home.

He was sitting at the kitchen table, a rather gigantic cup of coffee in front of him, when Tony entered. He looked beat, and Steve suspected he hadn’t slept at all. As awful as it sounded, sometimes in comforted him to know he wasn’t the only messed up one in the team. At least they could all understand each other on that front.

“Morning.”

Tony nodded at him. “Cap.”

“Long night?”

“Long week. Is there any coffee left?”

“Lots of it.”

Tony hummed as he grabbed an equally huge cup. “Good, good.”

They sat together with their coffees, Tony drinking his significantly quicker than Steve was downing his, and for a few minutes the room was silent, conversation stuck in their throats. Steve reckoned it would never get easier to talk to Tony. Not when the amount of confessions he wasn’t sure he wanted to share were at the tip of his tongue.

Luckily for him Tony spoke first. “I know I have a reputation of practically never sleeping, but you don’t look too good right now either.” He tilted his head as Steve hid his face in his beast of a cup. “Do you wanna talk about it or something?”

“Some nights I just can’t fall asleep. Others I can’t stay asleep.”

“Ah.”

“But I’m doing better,” Steve promised. “I guess it’s just a long road.”

“It usually is.”

“Do you want to talk?”

Tony shot him a rather sad smile, which sort of broke his heart a little bit. “You free for that many hours?”

Steve let out a laugh, because what else was he supposed to do? “I can clear my schedule.”

“Nah, you’re fine. Maybe some other time. For now I just want to sit here and watch the city wake up and not think about me for a change.”

Steve lifted his cup. “Hear, hear.”

They very rarely started their days together, because by the time Tony entered the kitchen Steve was already punching things at the gym, so maybe going through a sleepless, rather exhausting night was worth it for once.

Tony’s hand touched his. It was brief, but Steve felt the ghost of his touch when he looked up at him questioningly. “You wanna sparr?”

Even if Steve had already worked out he wouldn’t have said no, and so they found themselves in the gym twenty minutes later, Tony wearing a headband to keep his hair out of his face and driving Steve slightly insane. He realized quickly that sparring with someone you had feelings for wasn’t the best idea. Every touch, every grunt; it was almost too much, and Steve wasn’t surprised when their session was cut short because Tony accused him of not trying hard enough.

“Stop holding back.”

“I would crush you.”

Tony poked him in the chest. “I know, but you’re barely trying. It’s condescending.”

Steve gave him a look. “As if you’re offended.”

Tony grinned at that. “I’m not, but still-”

“I know, I know.”

Tony poked him again. “I want to let off some steam, and I can’t do that if you’re not even letting me break a sweat.” Poke.

Steve batted his hand away. “Stop that.”

“What, this?” Another poke, this time closer to his rib cage. “Why, is my big, strong finger hurting the small, weak supersoldier?”

Steve took a step back. “No, but it’s annoying.” They were both smiling.

Tony reached out again, and Steve knew it was only a matter of time before he made the discovery, so he wasn’t very surprised when Tony’s eyes widened after he’d laughed when a poke was aimed slightly too low.

“You’re ticklish.” It wasn’t a question.

Steve crossed his arms. “Maybe.”

Tony’s grin grew. “Maybe, huh?” It was scary what a grin and a tone could do to you. “I know you haven’t been Captain America your entire life, but you must admit this is interesting.”

“Interesting how?”

“Big guy like you being reduced to a giggly mess by just a few pokes.”

“I haven’t been reduced to a giggly mess.”

“Yet.” Tony let out a laugh. “Relax, Cap, I’m messing with you. Your reaction makes me think you haven’t been tickled since the 40s.”

“Who would tickle me here?”

“I could, if you’d want me to. I’m sure others would be more than happy to contribute, too.”

Steve wasn’t sure how things had led to this particular conversation, but he didn’t hate it, despite what his currently burning face indicated. “Would I have to ask for it?”

Tony tilted his head at him. “Not if I could tell that you liked it and that you needed it. So do you?”

“What?”

“Like it and need it?”

This was _definitely_ not how he’d planned to spend his morning. He averted his eyes, inspected the wall as if it was the most interesting thing in the room. “Maybe.”

“You use that word a lot.”

Steve met his gaze again, forcing himself to maintain eye contact, even if the intensity in Tony’s face made him want to both back away and close the gap. “Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Just yes.”

Tony understood, and he wasted no time. “I’m gonna make you scream for mercy, Steve Rogers.”

And scream for mercy he did.

* * *

 

Ever since that day Steve started noticing a pattern. Tony’s hands would always find a sensitive spot on him, despite where they were or what they were doing. It would touch a spot and make Steve jerk, and then it would vanish and leave Steve aching for more. He was never sure how to ask for more. He’d never been in a position where he’d had to _ask_.

He was certain Tony knew exactly what he was doing to him.

But the most curious part of it all was when other people started joining in. Steve was confused, to say the least, when Nat reached out one day, rather subtly to be fair, and let her fingers trace his knee. The material of his sweatpants muted the feeling of her touch, but it was enough to make him tense up, heart hammering against his chest in anticipation of what she would do. But her touch was brief, and she was pulling away almost instantly as if nothing had happened. Steve wasn’t really sure of what had happened.

Thing got stranger after that. Clint’s fingers ended up on his foot more than once when he was trying to get some rest on the couch in the living room. Bruce’s hand brushed over his neck when he reached over his to try to grab something instead of asking Steve to get it for him. Thor’s fingertips grazed his side when he tried to walk past him despite the fact that the hallway had been neither crowded nor narrow. When even Sam’s hands found their way to his lower back one day Steve refused to believe it was all a coincidence.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked Tony one day, having cornered him in his lab.

Tony didn’t even pretend not to know what he meant. “Because it’s fun watching you squirm.”

Steve frowned. “I-”

“I also know you crave the intimacy and playfulness, but to have them straight up tickle you would probably be a little weird right now. I know the idea of it relaxes you, so I ask them to do it during days where you seem to be extra stressed to get your mind off of things, since I’m not always around.”

“That…makes a lot of sense, actually. Should I be worried that you were able to read me so clearly?”

“Should I be worried that you’ve finally admitted it all out loud? I didn’t think you would.”

“Denial gets tiring.”

“It was never much of a denial. More of a non-verbal confession you weren’t aware of.”

Steve let out a laugh. “I feel a little embarrassed.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Maybe not. How did you figure this all out, though?”

Tony shrugged. “I observed you and the way you never told me to stop until you couldn’t take it anymore. I noticed how much calmer you seemed afterwards, and that was when my plan started forming.”

“You really don’t get enough credit for how observant you are.”

“I know right?” He took a step closer. “So, you ready for a relaxed evening?”

“It’s noon.”

“That’s why we gotta start preparing.”

Steve understood what he mean and couldn’t help but to smile a little timidly. “Sounds like a good plan.”

“Yeah? Are you gonna ask for it, or is that still a no no?”

“No asking.”

“It was worth a shot.” And he lunged, both of them falling onto the couch that was conveniently right behind Steve. As soon as Tony’s hands were on him, unbearably light against his skin, Steve finally felt himself let go; his laughter filling and filling and filling the room until their bodies barely fit anymore. This was something he’d missed for so long.

He’d wondered what it would feel like to have Tony’s hands on his skin for so long now, and while this wasn’t the scenario he’d had in mind, he wasn’t disappointed. Tony was gentle with things he cared about, and Steve guessed that included people as well.

Was he bold enough to consider himself a person Tony Stark cared about?

He was a little embarrassed at how quickly he fell into hysterics once Tony had straddled his hips. He could throw him off easily, but being tickled made him weaker, and combined with the fact that he didn’t actually want it to stop made it easy for Tony to stay put while Steve all but giggled his head off. He was sure if was a sight for sore eyes.

It was only once he’d cried, “Shihihit!” that Tony eased up, because “if Captain America swears it must mean it’s getting too much”. How their mouths collided Steve wasn’t entirely sure of, but it happened, and then it happened again, and again, and again.

Things changed once again. Steve woke up in his bed, but he never woke up alone. His mornings were filled with intimacy and whispered conversations and laughter that could fill the whole Tower. He had breakfast with Tony’s side pressed against his while whoever else was in the room stared in confusion until it became such a common thing that staring wasn’t needed anymore. When Tony disappeared into his lab or a meeting Steve went about his day, and he felt happier.

He went to bed with Tony’s fingers skittering over his torso, making him squirm and laugh and struggle half-heartedly. They still woke up in the middle of the night either screaming or panting or feeling emptier than ever, but they felt safer when the other comforted them. Things would never be fully okay, but they were bearable, and in some moments they were perfect. To think this all came from some well aimed pokes made him want to laugh more than the actual pokes did. Maybe this was what being almost home was like.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://nhasablog.tumblr.com)


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